


Whatever It Takes

by slingading



Category: Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, some blood, some language, some light descriptions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slingading/pseuds/slingading
Summary: Trapped and injured with no way out after a cave-in, Steve has to work to keep both him and an unconscious Herobrine alive long enough to escape.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Quick notes about the whole “Void Space” thing, which will become more relevant in chapter 2.
> 
> Void Space: A parallel dimension. Picture it like the Overworld, just in black and white. Somewhat different than The Void residing under bedrock and in The End. 
> 
> Void Walking: What I’m calling teleportation. Basically Herobrine can phase into Void Space, disappearing from the Overworld and reappearing someplace else. The transition is nearly instant.
> 
> Void Reaching: Herobrine ‘summoning’ objects to him by reaching across the Void. Pretty much a portal system. He can envision an item and then ‘pluck’ it seemingly from thin air, when really he’s just reaching across space to displace that item.

The usual dusty and mysterious atmosphere of a cave that Steve typically loves is now an oppressive darkness to his psyche. It feels like every few seconds he has to cough, which in turn jostles his body and sends waves of pain shooting down his leg and up his back. His arms ache from dragging himself far enough away from the rubble to deem himself ‘safe,’ and he’s exhausted from staying up all day and night, protecting them from any mobs that wander too close. He’s lucky Alex had accidentally forgotten her bow when she’d stormed off, irritated—as usual—by Herobrine’s relentless teasing. She’d made it pretty clear too, as she was walking away.

‘ _See if I care if you ever come back!’_

So the chances of her returning any time soon are slim to none. Unless they end up dying, then after several days she’d know something was up but be far too late to do anything about it.

He does feel bad, but tries not to dwell. If he can help it, they _will_ make it out of here, dammit, so help him Gods.

The biggest problem, aside from his probably broken ankle, is that Herobrine is unconscious. They’re no strangers to dealing with cave-ins, but when creepers get involved, everything tends to go to shit pretty quickly. The first creeper had surprised them, knocking them into opposite walls and partially destroying support systems for their part of the cave. The second creeper exploded simply because the first one had, leaving them out of the blast but finishing the job and causing the cave-in, which half burried the both of them.

Steve had awaken some time later with a raging headache and pain radiating throughout the entire right side of his body. There’s only one small mercy to this whole thing—both of them had been caught at an angle, which meant that escaping from under the rubble hadn’t been as impossible as it could have been. Although, with a busted right ankle, it’d been slow going as Steve used his left arm to clear enough rubble away to drag himself from the mound and over to Herobrine. He’d tried everything he could to wake the other man, but nothing had worked, which had brought tears of frustration to Steve’s eyes as he’d slowly dug Herobrine out from under the rubble as well. After that job had been finished, Steve’s arms and most of his body had ached, painfully pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He’d dragged Herobrine over to one of the walls and had planted the both of them against it, finally breathing a small sigh of relief. That’s when Steve had heard spiders hissing and realized they were far from safe.

Alex’s bow has infinity, but she hadn’t left any arrows, and neither he nor Herobrine use bows, so he’d been left staring at the shimmering bow and lamenting pissing Alex off, even if it is unintentional on his part. He can’t help that he and Herobrine have similar senses of humor. He does promise to apologize profusely to her and makes a vow to start taking her side more, if he makes it out of here.

Luckily no spiders had shown up, but a skeleton had. He’d played dead on a split second decision, heart pounding in his chest as it got closer out of curiosity. He’d opened his eyes a sliver to see it looking at them, close enough to touch, and had made his move. It hadn’t been able to nock and loose an arrow fast enough before Steve had grabbed the bow and yanked, forcing the skeleton to jolt forward. He’d then punched its head as hard as possible, awkward with his left and non-dominant hand but sufficient enough to dislodge the head from the body. Then he’d used his left foot to kick the head as far away as possible, watching it bounce farther into the cave. The body had stayed animated for several more seconds before it’d collapsed into a pile, dead.

Steve’s heart had been beating so quickly he’s afraid he was going to have a heart attack. It had taken several minutes to calm himself down, but with an arrow now in his possession, he can dispatch mobs a lot easier. But the question had still remained on how they were going to escape.

Throughout the day, as he’d kept an eye out and defended them as necessary, he’d expected Herobrine to wake up and do something to save them. In the time that Steve has known Herobrine, he’s seen the demigod survive injuries that would kill a human. Stab wounds, burns, explosions—Herobrine seems to shrug them off, recovering within a week’s time. He had genuinely expected Herobrine to wake up any second and get them out of there, but as hours had passed and the sun surely set, Herobrine had remained unconscious. Steve can’t exactly tell what time it is, but he’d felt it in his gut that several hours had passed—possibly the entire day—and Herobrine hadn’t woken up. That’s when he’d realized that there’s a chance that Herobrine _wouldn’t_ wake up any time soon, or even in the next several _days_ , and if Steve wanted to get out, he’d have to do something about it himself.

So that’s what he’s been trying to figure out, as he sits with the bow clutched tightly in his left hand, body in a constant ache of pain and nerves as frayed as ever. He’s too afraid to sleep, too keyed up and worried they’ll be shot or mauled to death. His eyes feel heavy but he stays away by poking himself with the tip of the arrow every so often, which shocks him back to wakefulness, but it’s a temporary solution. It’s already becoming less effective, and he knows he’s going to need to do something and quickly.

He checks Herobrine first, on instinct, making sure the man is still breathing. He is, and his head wound, which Steve had found and wrapped with some of his torn shirt on his first pass for injuries, has stopped bleeding. Head wounds always look worse than they are, Steve’s sure he’s heard once, and that’s true here. The wound is a cut along the left side of Herobrine’s head, but most of his head on that side and his shirt is coated in drying blood. Steve had had to swallow down the urge to vomit, in the face of all that blood, and actively regulate his breathing because all he had wanted to do was hyperventilate and pass out himself. Nothing sounds better right now than sleeping, expect perhaps water.

His throat burns and his stomach aches just thinking about water, even briefly, so Steve finishes checking over Herobrine, pleased to see nothing else amiss, and turns his attention to the cave, tracing over every little nook and cranny to spot _anywhere_ that could protect them better than just sitting out in the open. It’s dark, their torch having been covered by the rubble, but his eyes have adjusted somewhat over the last hours. Not very well, considering just how dark it is, but something is better than nothing.

Telling himself that keeps the impending breakdown at bay.

He adjusts his position, wincing when pins and needles spread along his legs. Luckily he can bend his right leg a little without it hurting too much, but any movement of his foot has him gnashing his teeth in an effort not to scream. But it’s something he will have to endure, even just briefly, if he’s going to find a safer place for them.

Steeling his resolve and taking a few breaths, he draws his left leg under him and, holding his breath, pushes up and off the wall. His foot pulses angrily, but the pain fades to its constant after just a moment, allow him a quivering but relieved breath. Now that he’s standing, he slings the bow around his chest and uses the wall as support to make his way around.

Originally, the part of the cave they’re in is basically a tube, but the cave-in has blocked the way out, creating a dead end. Going the other way leads to a fork, the left route leading to another dead end, after about two minutes of walking, and the right route leads down into the rest of the expansive cave system. It’s also where any mobs come from. But the way out—blocked floor to ceiling by gravel and rock. With his limited vision, he feels along the wall until he meets the rubble, then feels along the base of the wall, trying to remember what the walls had looked like. They had pretty much just started diving into the cave when Herobrine had pissed Alex off and she’d left, and then shortly after the creepers had come. They’d only been able to explore the left fork, which is a dead end, and were about to go right when shit went down. He’s _pretty_ sure he remembers seeing an indent along the wall somewhere around here, which would be perfect to hide in. He doesn’t feel anything except solid wall though, so he slowly shuffles to the other side and feels over there. He finds success—his hand finds open air, the little nook partially blocked by some rubble that he can probably clear easy enough.

He painfully drops to his knees and quickly shovels the rubble away from the opening. By the time he’s deemed the gap wide enough he’s panting and his headache is back full force, pounding behind his eyes. He tries to stand but gets assaulted by dizziness immediately. It nearly sends him right back to the floor, so he lowers himself before he passes out and crawls back to Herobrine.

Moving Herobrine across the cave is the most difficult thing he’s had to do so far. Without being able to use his right foot, dragging a fully grown man’s worth of dead weight takes way longer than it should. Now Steve’s not scrawny but he’s not built either, so dragging Herobrine while he himself can’t walk nearly breaks him.

He can’t help the few tears that escape once he manages to drag Herobrine into the little nook, then slips inside himself. The space is enough to sit upright in, if he slouches, and barely long enough to lay down in, but it’s better than what they had been doing, so he can’t find it in him to complain. After making sure Herobrine’s decently comfortable, he arranges the rubble to block the entrance enough to prevent mobs from discovering them. His vision swims the entire time—at least it _feels_ like it is—and when he’s done he barely manages to turn around.

He gently slips his left arm under Herobrine’s head, so that he can rest on something relatively soft, and slowly turns Herobrine to face him. Between them, he finds and holds Herobrine’s hand, more for his own peace of mind. If he were awake, Herobrine would undoubtedly be making _so_ many jokes about their position, but Steve just needs the comfort of feeling Herobrine breathe. He lays his own head on his arm as well as he can and closes his eyes. He’s asleep instantly.

* * *

He wakes up groggy, with a burning throat and an aching stomach. As soon as he moves he hisses, settling back down. There’s a kink in his neck from sleeping with his head on his arm, and his arm, now that he’s awake to feel it, has gone to sleep, pins and needles having made it numb long ago. He stares straight ahead, barely able to make out the details of Herobrine’s face, and presses their foreheads together, face scrunching up as a few tears escape.

“Please,” He rasps, his voice stressed from disuse. His throat burns sharply, but he ignores it. “Please, wake up. I need you, I—I can’t do this.” Herobrine doesn’t answer, face just as slack as ever, and Steve starts crying in earnest, pressing his face into Herobrine’s shirt and clutching onto him tightly.

He wears himself out quickly, and ends up just laying there, staring at Herobrine’s shirt. He wipes the tear tracks away when they start itching, then sits up and crawls to the opening. He pushes the rubble away, satisfied to see no mobs, and exits. Standing makes his head spin, but being able to stretch out is a small victory. He grimaces at the sharp pain in his neck, but at this point, what’s one more ache?

Once the dizzy spell passes, he tries putting pressure on his injured foot. It hurts, it hurts _a lot_ , but it’s possible, if necessary. He’s able to limp around, without use of the wall. Good to know, but he doesn’t want to exacerbate his injury, so he’ll keep using the wall for the foreseeable future.

Despite not having anything to do and anywhere to go, he can’t help feeling restless. His options right now are to sleep or sit and wait, both equally unpleasant. He’s afraid that he’ll fall asleep and not wake up, and waiting for a slow death—or for Alex to find them—just doesn’t sit right with him. He needs to act, he needs to be strong and get them out of this situation.

That in mind, he kneels and starts searching around the bottom of the rubble pile, sticking his hands as far as possible to find _anything_ that could be of use. Even just the torch that had been knocked off the wall would come in handy right now. He ends up finding something much better—his bag. He nearly cries again when he digs it out from under some rubble, hugging it to his chest and crawling back over to the safety of the nook. He slips inside and blocks the entrance, then digs through his bag to pull out another torch. He has to close his eyes and turn his head away once he lights it, but his eyes adjust quickly. He lays the torch in the corner and sets his bag down to check over Herobrine again. The teal of Steve’s shirt that he’d wrapped around Herobrine’s head is completely soaked through with red, so he tears more off. Then he removes his previous attempt at a bandage and throws it near the blocked off entrance. He’s pleased to see that the cut isn’t actively bleeding, and ties the new bandage around Herobrine’s head carefully, then makes sure Herobrine’s situated as comfortably as possible.

The real reason he’s glad to have found his bag is the food and water stored inside. Unfortunately not a lot, but enough to keep him going and boost his mood a little.

It’s nothing fancy—some bread and strips of dried meat—but to Steve, right now, it’s the best food he’s ever eaten. It’s incredibly tempting to eat everything all at once, but he refrains, packing the rest of the food away. Out of sight, out of mind. With the water, which he only has one bottle of, he gives some to Herobrine. He can’t make Herobrine eat, and truthfully doesn’t know if Herobrine needs to eat as often as a human might, but the water is easy. He doesn’t know if Herobrine will starve like he certainly will, but he hopes—no, he _prays_ that’s not the case. Best case scenario, Herobrine wakes up before or shortly after Steve inevitably loses consciousness himself. Worse case scenario...well, he doesn’t think about it.

That’s all that’s to his bag, unfortunately. He’s become too used to having Herobrine around, able to obtain any item they might need. Potions, tools, food, supplies—Herobrine’s been alive a long time and collected a lot of things he has no use for. Steve and Alex are the first people to have befriended him and come to rely on him. So much for that. From now on, Steve’s going to carry _two_ bags—one solely for potions, food, and torches. The other for everything else.

He lays down and decides that sleeping sounds a little better, now that he’s had sustenance. He puts out the torch and twines himself around Herobrine again, this time putting his bag under Herobrine’s head and placing his own on Herobrine’s chest, letting the steady and strong beat of Herobrine’s heart lull him to sleep.

* * *

He wakes up suddenly, gasping. His body jerks and he sits up, hitting his head on the ceiling of the nook and hissing. His heart slows and he remembers that he’s not trapped under rocks, they avoided the worse of it, they’re fine. Well—he looks down at Herobrine, sighing at his unresponsiveness. But he smiles, glad it’s not worse.

He hears a sound from outside the nook and freezes, holding his breath for good measure. He doesn’t know what he heard but he knows he heard something. It doesn’t happen again until he’s laid back down, making him freeze again. It’s a low sound, barely there, but it sounds close. And it’s definitely a spider.

He sits up and scoots over to the entrance, pushing some rubble away to try and see into the cave. Instead, much to his surprise, he comes face to face with a zombie.

His stomach drops as he jerks his head back, reaching for the bow. The zombie paws at the rocks, unsure of how to get to them but fixated, now that it saw him. Steve gets the bow in front of him and makes to draw back the string, but his hands are shaking like crazy. He looks between Herobrine and the zombie, trying to calm down but—he can’t screw up, he can’t let anything happen to them.

He lifts the bow and draws back the string, waiting for the infinity enchantment to materialize an arrow. He takes a deep breath and glares at the zombie, then looses the arrow, right through the small gap. The zombie makes a pained sound, and then there’s a thump from outside and the zombie starts groaning. Steve hurriedly pushes some rubble out of the way to create a bigger gap to shoot through, then takes aim again. The zombie’s struggling to stand upright, swaying with an arrow lodged in its eye. Steve looses a second arrow that pierces the zombie’s throat, then another to the knee. The zombie goes down, then keels over. A few seconds later it stops twitching.

Steve sighs shakily, dropping the bow and covering his face with his hands. One measly zombie isn’t a threat, but injured as he is _and_ protecting Herobrine? Any mistake could be their last.

He doesn’t want to go out there, but he can already smell the rotting flesh and his sensitive stomach threatens to give out on him. He holds his breath and pushes more rubble out of the way until he can crawl out. At least the zombie will be easier to drag than Herobrine.

He’s barely out of the nook fully before a weight slams onto his back, startling a shout out of him. He feels too many limbs and remembers the hissing and _oh_ , the spider that woke him.

His thoughts are interrupted when the spider bites him on his back, over his shoulder blade. He cries out in pain and fear and wildly swings his arms back, trying to dislodge it. He feels one of his fists connect with something meaty and the spider lets out its own hiss of pain. It scrambles off of him but only long enough for Steve to turn around, then it strikes again, fangs exposed and reaching for him. He cries out in fear and brings his arm up to keep the spider at bay, blindly reaching for something to attack. He’d dropped the bow and left it in the nook like an idiot, and he had nothing on him. His fingers feels the edge of a large rock just as the spider shifts and manages to sink its fangs into the arm blocking it.

Gritting his teeth against another scream, he gets a good hold on the rock and slams it hard against the spider’s head. It makes a weak sound and stumbles off him. Feeling tears in his eyes, Steve goes on the offense and jumps on the spider, bringing the rock down again and again until the spider goes limp, and then a couple more times for good measure.

He’s panting hard at the end of it, and shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. He drops the rock and is suddenly repulsed by the gore, spider blood and guts fanned out around him, on him. His arm and back burns, his ankle protests each and every movement with a stab of pain, his body needs food and water, and his headache’s back. All he wants to do is curl up and go to sleep, to forget about this nightmare and wake up safe and sound in his bed at home.

He pushes the zombie a sufficient distance away, then drags himself to the nook. He makes sure to cover the opening, this time fully, then collapses next to Herobrine. He carefully extracts a little more food and the bottle from his bag, taking a sip and then giving Herobrine some, and eating the food slowly. Once finished, he curls into the fetal position, holding one of Herobrine’s hands between both of his, and falls into a fitful sleep.

He doesn’t so much as sleep as he dozes, skirting along the edges of unconsciousness without ever truly falling into it. It suddenly feels extremely hot, whereas before the cave was stuffy but bearable. Now, however, it feels like the blood itself is boiling in his body. It makes him twist and turn, pain only adding to the strange half-dreams he’s having, turning them dark and scary. At some point he drifts off, forced under by his body trying to escape the pain.


	2. Herobrine

For a long time, he doesn’t realize he’s awake. Moving hurts, breathing hurts, his arm, his back, his foot, his head—

He blinks sluggishly and moves slowly, his muscles protesting every little movement. There are two pinpoints of heat and pain in his mind, his back and arm, where the spider bit him. A reason why crawls to his awareness as if through slime; a cave spider? Gods, if he’s been poisoned...

He could go check, crawl out of the nook and bring the torch, examine the spider’s remains. His body protests at the mere thought of it, and he wars with himself as to whether laying still is more important, or knowing if he’s been poisoned. He decides that laying is more important, simply because he tries to get up and is unable to find the strength to do so, and laying down feels so, so very good right now.

“...”

Steve opens his eyes, wondering how long ago he shut them, and lifts his head, straining. Did he just hear something...?

“...ev...”

It comes again, a barely there blip to his awareness. It sounds far away, or maybe muffled.

Curiosity gets the better of him, enough to overcome the powerful urge to remaining lying down, so he grabs the torch and lights it, unblocks the entrance, and peaks into the cave. No zombies, or any other mob. He looks above him, paranoid after the spider, but finds nothing. Feeling moderately safe but still exhausted, he crawls out of the nook and staggers to his feet, grimacing when he tries to place weight on his right foot. His ankle flairs in pain and his knees give out. He hits the ground hard, rock digging painfully into his skin. The torch rolls a little away from him, thankfully remaining lit.

That’s when he hears it again, a low sound he can’t make out, but his brain connects invisible dots for him. Someone’s calling him.

“—“ He opens his mouth to call back, sure that Alex has come back for them, but his throat is dry and scratchy. He coughs, feeling weak afterwards.

He looks at the rubble, imagining Alex standing on the other side, calling out for him, but when he hears the sound again, it’s coming from behind him. He crawls to the torch, then clumsily gets to his feet and shuffles a little farther into the cave, using the walls as supports the best he can. When he gets to the fork, he hears the sound coming from the right path, leading deeper into the cave. Something on the edge of his mind warns him that going down there is certain death, but he hears the call again and every other thought is driven from his mind. He takes uneasy steps forward, but presses on.

* * *

Some unknown amount of time later, Herobrine opens his eyes.

It takes him longer than he will admit to realize that his eyes aren’t adjusting correctly because one, it’s pitch black and two, the ceiling is within arm’s reach. Did he fall asleep somewhere? Sleeping does not come naturally to him, he has to force it, so he always remembers where and why it happens. But now, there’s a large gap in his memory. He remembers talking to Alex and her stomping off but then it gets hazy. Did he and Steve explore the cave? Or did—

A sharp stab of pain lances through his skull. He makes a sound of displeasure and brings a hand to his head, more confused than ever. They were caving, or about to start, and now he’s laying in what he senses is a small room of some sort, and his head hurts.

Sitting up makes the stabbing pain morph into a constant throbbing along his temples, and he rubs them, irritated. Injuries usually heal within several days for him, but head injuries are a bit trickier. He makes to summon a potion but stops, staring at his hand.

At this point in his life, reaching through Void Space for objects has become like second nature to him, as familiar as his own body, which is convenient when one is crossing space to upset the natural order and displace an object. But just now, that connection had been off. Instead of clearly seeing the potion, he saw a kaleidoscope of options. The pathways through space are twisting and writhing, making it difficult for him to traverse.

So, definitely a head injury.

He opens his eyes a little wider, trying to use their dim light to see. He’s in a small alcove, alone, but when he feels around his hand hits a thin and light object. When he grabs it, its shape immediately becomes obvious. A bow, probably Alex’s since she’s the only one of the three of them to use one. Is she around too? He secures the bow around his torso and keeps feeling around for more. His hand finds a dark mass so he brings it up to his face and feels the first inklings of wrongness spike along his nerves. It’s Steve’s bag.

So where’s Steve?

He opens the bag but it’s practically empty, a few pieces of hardened bread and scraps of dried meat, as well as a water bottle with maybe one generous gulp left. So, Steve had been here. It makes Herobrine feel a little better, to know that Steve is okay enough to eat and drink. He takes a small sip of the water but leaves the food. He can and has gone months without food before feeling like he _needs_ to eat, so he’ll save it for Steve.

He looks around, noticing the displacement on one side of the alcove. When he looks closer, there’s a hole in the wall. He pushes more rocks out of the way until he’s able to crawl out.

The alcove is almost blocked by the massive pile of rubble it’s next to. So—a cave-in? He thinks—yeah, there’d been that creeper explosion, but after that his memory goes fuzzy.

The room is too large for his eyes to shine any valuable light, so he once again tries to Reach, this time for a torch. He can see it so clearly, laying innocently on Steve’s dining table back at home. His first attempt leads to him stubbing his fingers against the table itself, jarring it. His second attempt nudges the torch, but on his third he manages to grab it. He strikes it to life against the wall, then he holds it to the rest of the cave, confused by what he sees. There’s a pile of bones, a zombie studded with arrows, and the gory remains of a spider, its head completely crushed. He looks back at the alcove, piecing together a picture he doesn’t like the looks of. How long had he been unconscious?

He looks at the rubble again, then into the cave, feeling lost. He’s also afraid, because he’s pretty sure Steve had been the one to kill these mobs and hide the two of them in the alcove, but then where is he? It’s that thought at the forefront of his mind, worrying him.

He wants to find Steve first, so he turns away from the rubble and walks into the cave. He checks the left of the fork first, but comes up empty. He walks back to the fork and takes the right route, wondering why Steve would go this way. _If_ he’s even this way.

The longer he walks, the better he starts to feel, though slipping into Void Space still seems out of the question. Reaching seems to work fine, doable if he focuses, but he doesn’t want to risk pushing himself too hard by trying to Walk. The last thing he wants is to pass out again, especially out in the open and alone. So he takes it slow.

The cave is pretty standard. It spirals down into the earth, becoming colder and more ominous as he goes. Without an abundance of torches lining the walls, the cave is a lot more unsettling than it has a right to be.

After several minutes, he hears the sound of running water, and soon the cave opens up into a small underground ravine. There’s some lava in the middle, a small pool surrounded by obsidian. The water is flowing from one side of the ravine to the other, like a miniature river. There are a few mobs around, but everything is still and peaceful otherwise.

“H—“ He coughs and clears his throat, then tries again. “Hey!”

The skeleton and the spider look at him. The creeper ignores him, and the zombie is too stupid to realize it’s being talked to. But the skeleton and spider are perfect. “Did someone come this way?”

The skeleton’s head, tilted up to look at him, looks down at something underneath him. Herobrine leans over the edge and his breath catches. At the bottom of the ravine, unmoving, lays Steve. He can’t tell from his position if Steve’s even breathing.

“What happened?”

**He fell**

Herobrine looks up sharply, glaring at the skeleton. It raises its arms, as if to say ‘wasn’t me,’ and beside it the spider raises and lowers its upper body slowly, its way of nodding.

**It is true**

“Shit, is he alive?” Herobrine wants nothing more than to jump down there and find out for himself, but knows that pushing himself, even with how fine he feels, will only lead to more trouble. And Void Walking still feels utterly wrong when he even thinks about doing it, so that’s still out. “Can you check? Wait, take the skeleton. Regardless, I want you to bring him to me.”

The skeleton climbs onto the spider, which scurries from the opposite edge of the ravine, down the wall, and across the obsidian until the two mobs make it to Steve. The skeleton gets off the spider and they both get up close and personal with Steve’s face. Herobrine clenches his fist but refrains from acting rashly or saying anything negative. “Is he breathing?”

**Yes**

“Is he breathing _well_?”

**No**

“Fuck. Carry him up to me, but be careful.” He watches with a critical eye as the skeleton hauls Steve into its arms, then climbs onto the spider again. Slowly, the three make it up to him. He place the torch to the side and carefully takes Steve from the skeleton, dismissing the two mobs once Steve’s safe in his arms. They scurry away, glad to have their lives still.

This is bad.

Steve looks like shit, plain and simple. There’s blood coating most of him, some of it clearly from that zombie and spider back by the alcove, most of it his. Just from what Herobrine can see, there’s a spider bite on Steve’s left forearm, while his right arm is covered in dark bruises. His entire body is hot to the touch, clearly racked with fever.

“Oh Steve,” He mumbles, feeling both sorry and angry. Sorry that Steve’s had to go through so much, and alone at that. And angry at himself for being asleep during it all, for being useless while Steve had to keep them safe. Well, now he can return the favor. “Just stay with me buddy, I’m gonna get you out of here.” He forgets, in his single-minded drive to get Steve to safety, that Void Walking is a no-no, and experiences extreme vertigo before he can even properly slip into Void Space. He staggers and has to kneel, taking deep breaths until his vision stops spinning. Void Walking would make this _too_ easy, so of course it’s impossible. He sighs and gathers Steve into his arms, resigning to return to the site of the cave-in. He’s going to have to dig them out.

When he gets back to the rubble, he rests Steve carefully at the base of the wall next to the alcove, using Steve’s bag as a makeshift pillow. He gives Steve the rest of the water, wishing he could give him the food too, but is happy enough that Steve at least drinks something. After that, he Void Reaches for two potions, one of healing, and one of regeneration, giving both to Steve. Satisfied that Steve’s relatively stable, he reaches through the Void again and finds a shovel and a pickaxe, both iron, and gets to work on the opposite side of where Steve is, weary of any stray rocks hitting him.

He uses the pickaxe to break down any larger rocks, then uses the shovel to start clearing the way. It’s slow going, but eventually he clears a space big enough that he’s sure he can squeeze through while holding Steve.

He’s breathing heavily, more exhausted than he ought to be, and wipes away the sweat from his face. The muscles in his arms burn from working them so hard for so long, and so soon from regaining consciousness, but it’s all worth it.

He makes his way over to Steve, tossing the shovel aside. He bends down to pick Steve up and has to pause as his vision blurs and his stomach turns uneasily. He’s forced to breath again, until he returns to normal. He really should rest, but he’s so close to getting them out of there, and who’s to say he won’t pass out again? He needs to get them out of there, and now.

He picks Steve up and after brief debate with himself, he decides to carry Steve piggyback, at least through the gap he’d created. He has to lean forward a little, so Steve doesn’t slide off his back, but it ends up working out alright. He crawls through the gap, paying mind to the ceiling so as to not scrape Steve’s head against it, and then carefully slides down the other side. There’s a breeze on this side, fresh air enticing him to continue forward a little quicker, until they exit the cave and emerge into a plains biome. They aren’t _too_ far from Steve’s home, but far enough that Herobrine hesitates. Normally he wouldn’t have a problem carrying Steve the entire way, even as dead weight, but now, with his arms burning from digging them out and his head and stomach throbbing and the spells of vertigo that hit every so often, he doesn’t trust himself to make it without passing out half way through. He feels sweat on his upper lip that itches and absentmindedly wipes at it, only realizing now, in the overhead light of the sun, that it’s not sweat he’s wiping away—it’s blood, his hand covered in it. He touches under his nose and when he pulls his fingers back, they’re coated in blood too.

He looks around, trying to breathe evenly to regulate his racing heart. He’s going to freak out if he doesn’t calm down. He sees a lone tree a little ways away and staggers over to it, barely managing to drop Steve carefully before he practically collapses, panting hard. At least, under the shade, he can enjoy relief from the heat.

He lays there until he feels a little better, than decides to use the light to his advantage. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and kneels at Steve’s side. He looks like death warmed over, his face pale with bruising around his eyes. The bite on his arm looks a lot better than what he could see in the cave, scabbed over but heavily bruised. The bruises on his right arm have lightened considerably, thanks to the potions, but are still troubling to look at. Steve’s shirt is definitely unsalvageable, torn and blood stained, barely any teal visible. He peels it up and is relieved to see very little damage. More bruising along his right side, but no cuts or scabs or deeper bruises telling of worse trauma. He notices that the back of Steve’s shirt seems worse for wear, so he lifts Steve to a sitting position to see the damage. Another bite, on the shoulder blade this time, equally scabbed over and bruised. Most of the skin is coated in dried blood.

“Gods,” He says as he pulls Steve’s shirt down and lays him down again. “I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been for you.” He puts his hand on Steve’s chest, over his heart, comforted by its steady rhythm.

He continues his examination, feeling along Steve’s legs and pulling up the bottoms on each leg to see some of the skin. Like the right arm, his right leg is covered in bruises and horrifyingly, his ankle is extremely swollen, the skin radiating heat and a deep, angry redish-purple. It looks bad, even after the two potions from earlier, leading Herobrine to believe that it’s broken. He wonders if it happened when Steve fell into the ravine, or if it happened during the cave-in. Gods, he hopes it was the ravine.

There doesn’t seem to be any other external wounds, but everything he’s seen, coupled with an almost certain case of starvation and dehydration, leave Steve’s chances up in the air. Even if he survives the flesh wounds, who knows what kind of infections he could have gotten down there, or what kinda of internal injuries there are.

For good measure he Reaches for two more potions, giving them to Steve slowly and relieved by the soft glow along pretty much all of Steve’s body as the potion’s sink in, healing as best they can. He still feels off himself, so he leans back against the tree and puts Steve’s head in his lap, drifting off into a fitful sleep.

He wakes up disoriented and looks around. It’s dark now, the crescent moon hanging low in the sky. The pleasant breeze from earlier is now a chill along his exposed arms, and subconsciously he brings Steve closer to him in any capacity he can. It’s when he looks up again that he realizes they have an audience. There’s an enderman standing directly in front of him, facing away. There are dead zombies scattered around, as well as several craters indicative of creeper explosions. “Uh...”

The enderman turns its head, just enough to look at him from the corner of its eye.

**You called me here**

He blinks. “Really? I don’t...”

**You called others, but they left**

“In my sleep? I guess that’s possible.” If he slept more often, he might know of something like this happening, but truth be told he’s never experienced this before. He wonders if it’s because of the head trauma. “Why did you stay?”

**They would have attacked you**

It gestures to the dead zombies.

**You were defenseless**

“So you protected us? Why?”

The enderman does not verbally respond, instead shrugs and returns to looking straight ahead. Herobrine rests his head against the tree and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. A thought occurs to him and he addresses the enderman again.

“Can you Void Walk with humans?”

The enderman turns its head again, showing that it’s listening.

**With you perhaps, the other I do not think that would be a good idea**

Herobrine looks down at Steve, frowning. “Because he’s injured?”

**Yes**

“Can you maybe help me do it?”

That seems to intrigue the enderman enough that it turns around, facing him properly.

**What do you mean**

“I can Walk, but I hit my head and it’s screwing with my perception. I need to get us to safety and warmth, you know, human necessities? But I’m afraid I’ll pass out if I push myself too hard. Can you help me get to where I need to go?”

The enderman stares at him for a long moment before responding.

**Okay**

Well, that was easy. “Okay? Okay. Great!” Suddenly invigorated, Herobrine stands. “How should I...?”

**Hold him in front of you**

Herobrine hefts Steve into a bridal carry, determined to get them home. He rakes his eyes across Steve’s slack face and promises to do this, damn the consequences.

**I will shadow your Walk and correct the path if necessary**

“So I should just try like normal?”

**Yes**

He takes several deep breaths, then starts shifting into Void Space. The vertigo slams into him, but he feels the enderman’s hand on his back, grounding him. He breathes through the dizziness and finally manages to slip entirely into the Void.

The world becomes swathed in darkness and utter silence. It used to creep him out, in the beginning, but after so many years he’s grown accustomed to it. He pictures Steve’s house, focusing hard on its direction, and the world moves around him, flinging them toward it. Almost immediately, reality starts to warp ahead of them, a sign that he’s going to drop out of Void Space, but the enderman maneuvers them around the distortion, pressing on. Herobrine can feel blood start to drip from his nose again, and the longer this goes on, the harder his heart starts to beat and the harder it becomes to breathe. If the enderman hadn’t been here, he would have passed out.

The world slows to a stop, Steve’s house directly in front of them. Herobrine drops out of Void Space faster than he ever has before, legs immediately giving out from under him. The enderman supports him from behind, long arms able to slip under his to hold both of them up long enough for feeling to come back to his legs. Now safe, he sets Steve down gently and looks at the enderman. “Tha—thank you,” He pants out, wiping the blood from his lips.

The enderman nods, then disappears, Void Walking away.

Herobrine lets out a breath and finally lets himself relax a bit. There’s still uncertainty in their future, but for now, everything’s all right.

He carries Steve to his bed, making sure he’s positioned comfortably, then slides to the floor, bed to his back. His vision blurs, and he closes his eyes, letting sleep take him.

* * *

He wakes up with Alex kneeling in front of him, shaking his shoulders and calling his name. Her face relaxes when she notices his consciousness.

“Thanks the Gods, what the hell happened?”

He blinks heavily, knocking Alex’s hands away. “Is...?” Stringing words together is proving difficult, but he looks at the bed, at Steve.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine, I took care of him.” Alex sits back, eyeing him. “Are you okay? You’re covered in blood.”

“I—“ He looks down. His shirt looks just as bad as Steve’s had, very little teal remaining. His nose and mouth feel stiff and itchy with dried blood. He tries to wipe it but it’s too dried, flaking off on his hand. “I hit my head.”

“Really? You totally seem normal, I never would have guessed.” She rolls her eyes, but there’s a worry in her expression that Herobrine’s not used to seeing directed at him.

“Somehow I feel like you’re being sarcastic.”

Alex stands and holds her hand out. He takes it and lets her pull him up. His head spins and his arms ache, but his legs feel strong. Once the world stops spinning, he feels a little more like himself. He desperately needs to change his clothes and take a bath, but his head feels a little clearer.

“You look horrible.” Both Herobrine and Alex turn toward the bed. Steve is sitting up a little, looking at Herobrine.

Herobrine smiles a little. “You haven’t looked in a mirror then.”

Steve smiles back and tries to sit up more, grimacing almost as soon as he moves. Alex jolts forward, a scowl on her face. “Don’t move so quickly! I’m pretty sure you’re ankle’s broken.”

“You think so? I probably didn’t help things...” Steve at least looks a little sheepish as he settles back into the bed.

Herobrine will deny it later, but watching Steve and Alex bicker makes his heart feel light. It fills him with such a sense of happiness and warmth that he doesn’t know how to even begin to understand how someone like him deserves them.

He steps up to the bed, quieting the two. Alex gives him room and he lays his hand on the bed, palm up. Steve puts his in Herobrine’s and squeezes.

They made it. They’re safe.

But maybe no more caves for a while.


End file.
